


Death Eater

by losthpfanficwriter (erbkaiser)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Implied Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-29
Updated: 2015-07-29
Packaged: 2019-11-17 13:11:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18099176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erbkaiser/pseuds/losthpfanficwriter
Summary: Regulus Black is forced to re-live his worst memories as he drinks Voldemort's foul Potion protecting the Horcrux.





	Death Eater

**Death Eater**

“Master... please not make Kreacher,” the House-Elf pleaded.

“I... I am sorry, Kreacher. But I order you to make me drink. Make me drink until it's all gone, and ignore my pleas... I must get it.”

“Kreacher obeys Master Regulus.”

The first sip went down easily.

–---

“We have company, sis,” Cygnus Black commented. Walburga's usually sour expression turned even more dark as she waved her wand and caused the doors of the vestibule to fly open, revealing the two Black boys standing nearby.

“Come say hello to your uncle, boys,” Walburga ordered. Careful to be as silent as possible, the two shuffled forward.

“Hello uncle,” Sirius piped up.

Cygnus smiled at him. “A good, strong lad... you'll go far, boy. And who is that?”

“Oh, that's just Regulus... the mistake,” Walburga said with a sneer. “Ignore him, he's probably a squib anyway.”

“I... I...” Regulus started stuttering.

“Too afraid to speak up? Maybe this will get your voice out! _Morsus Acus_!” Cygnus trained his wand on the younger boy and a white light left the tip, impacting with the boy's face.

Regulus ran off crying, his face swelling up quickly.

“Let the coward run,” he heard his mother say as he fled.

–----

Regulus shook away the painful memory. “More... more, Kreacher,” he demanded. The Elf had to obey.

–-----

Regulus could barely contain his excitement at the day being nearly over. He had had to spend all day with his mean uncle and aunt and his cousins, learning how to write with a quill and other things ever proper Pureblood should know, but now he could go home to Quacky!

He had found the little duckling in the back yard a week ago and had smuggled it into his room. Their parents forbade them to have pets but he had always wanted one, and a duck was better than nothing. Regulus loved Quacky.

Entering his room he went straight for the closet where Quacky's box was... but while the box was there, the little duck was gone. Regulus felt a shiver run down his back... surely it hadn't escaped? He began rummaging through his possessions to find it, maybe it had hid?

An hour of searching later, Regulus still hadn't found his new friend. He had to force away his tears though, crying would only get him spanked again. A sad expression on his face, he made his way to the dinner room where his parents and brother were waiting.

“Look who finally showed up,” his mother said with a sneer. “You'd think the person who arranged for the appetizer would be here earlier.”

Regulus paled... surely she didn't mean...

His mother yelled: “Kreacher! Bring the roast duck!”

Regulus threw up all over the table.

–------

“Master, no more,” Kreacher begged.

“Never stop, I... I must swap the lockets,” Regulus said, coughing. Kreacher had to almost force the next sip in.

–-------

Regulus looked over the tables as he moved into the Great Hall for the first time, together with the other firsties. There, he saw his brother sitting at the Gryffindor table... Sirius seemed to be watching him, but Regulus wasn't sure what the expression on his brother's face meant.

On the other side of the room, at the Slytherin table, he saw his older cousins and family friends. They, too, seemed to be watching him.

As the sorting started he regretted his last name was Black, and not Zimmermann or Zinger or something else high up in the alphabet... all too soon it was his turn.

“Another Black eh? I know what to do with you,” the Hat said in his head.

“Please... I miss my brother. Can... can you put me with him?” Regulus pleaded.

“Gryffindor? I think not... that requires courage, boy. No, you are sneaky, and not a little ambitious when you want to be... you're the perfect SLYTHERIN!”

–-------

“Master, Kreacher wants to stop,” his Elf begged.

Regulus forced down the memory of the look of betrayal, of absolute _disgust_ , he had seen on Sirius' face that day. He took another sip.

–-------

“Looks like we caught ourselves a little lost firstie, a baby snake,” the fourth-year Gryffindor said to his friends. Regulus was trapped in a corner, surrounded by the four older Hogwarts students.

“P... please, let me pass... I am late for Transfiguration,” Regulus pleaded. It was only his second week, but he had gotten caught up leaving the dungeon since someone had hidden his books again, so now he was facing the older boys alone. Even Barty Crouch, the only boy his year he could talk to, wasn't around.

“Hey, I know who you are. You're Sirius' little brother, ain'cha?” one of the others asked.

Regulus nodded, hoping this meant they'd let him go.

“Sirius at least ended up in the good House... I bet the little runt is as evil as that cousin of his,” the first boy said again.

“I... I'm not! Please!” Regulus backed against the wall some more.

“Let's see how much you like getting hexed, snake!” the leader of the pack yelled. Multiple spells hit the young boy, causing welts and cuts to appear all over.

“Eew! The little baby wet himself!” a voice called out. Regulus sat slumped against the wall in a puddle of his own piss as the four older boys walked off, laughing.

The walk to the infirmary hurt less than the scorn he received from his own House later.

–-------

“Master must drink,” Kreacher reluctantly forced another gulp inside Regulus' mouth as the wizard shivered, not from cold.

–---------

Regulus looked up in surprise as an owl landed before him during breakfast, carrying a thick letter. He untied it and glanced inside, only to pale.

Someone had taken photographs of him and Barty kissing... photos that showed his face, clear as day. That his was not just a random note was proven by the short note that accompanied it:

“Disgusting little fag... it will cost you ten Galleons for a copy not to be sent to your parents. Be at the Astronomy tower later tonight OR ELSE.”

“Barty!” Regulus hissed, trying to get his _friend_ 's attention. When his friend looked over he passed over the photo and note, keeping both hidden under the table as good as possible.

“Merlin's saggy balls... this is bad,” Barty Crouch commented. “At least they haven't got my face... what are you going to do, Reg?”

“What do you mean, what am I going to do? This is serious!”

“That's your bro –”

“Fuck you, Barty, fuck you! I'm not in the mood for jokes! Someone is blackmailing me... us... what will we do?” Regulus' eyes were wide as he looked around, panicking.

“Hush, love,” Barty said in a low voice, handing the letter back while allowing his thumb to brush against Regulus' hand. “I'll come with you tonight, hidden. We'll take care of whoever this is.”

“But what if –”

“Leave it up to me.”

Later that night Regulus was shivering as he waited on top of the Astronomy Tower, hoping that Barty was indeed close by as he had promised. His _friend_ was an expert at the disillusionment charm so for all Regulus knew he was standing right next to him, but could he really trust that?

“You came,” a voice sounded from the alcove that hid the stairs back down. Regulus paled once more as he recognised the young man. Winston Fudge, a Gryffindor student one year above him and someone he had had encounters with since his first year at the school.

“O... Of course... I.. I have the money.”

“Of course you do. Hand it over.”

“I... I need the photos. All of them.”

“I'm a man of my word, little fag... I have them right here.” Winston patted his inner pocket. “Give me my money and nobody needs to learn your filthy little secret.”

Barty revealed himself with a sudden yell of “ _Incarcerous_!” Magical ropes surrounded the would-be blackmailer and Barty walked over to fish the enveloped out his robes. “That was a stupid mistake... your last one, I'm afraid,” he said, sneering.

“What? Barty, what are you going to do?” Regulus asked. “We have the photos, we can just leave!”

“And let this arse spread rumours? I think not... help me get him to the edge,” Barty replied.

“We're just going to scare him, right?” Regulus said under his breath, walking over.

“Sure, sure.” Together they manoeuvred the older boy to the edge. “Reg, hold him up by the ropes and let him hang over the edge, would you?”

“Stop! You can't do this!” Winston yelled out as Regulus complied. “My father is a high ranking Auror and he'll –”

“He'll what? Have a nice flight... _Finite_.” As Barty cast the finishing spells the ropes Reggie had been holding on to vanished, and with it the only thing holding Winston up.

Regulus looked in horror as the boy fell down the tower, landing with a sickening thud.

“You... you killed him!” he cried out, rounding on his friend.

“ _We_ killed him, Reg,” Barty corrected him. “Come, quickly. We need to be elsewhere, or we'll get caught.”

–------

Regulus could still see Winston's face before him as the boy realised he was about to die, at least until he had to focus on another spoon full of Potion.

–------

“I don't want to do this, Barty, really I don't,” Regulus pleaded. As usual however, Barty could silence him with just a look, so Regulus followed behind.

“Please, let's just leave... you can... you can make up some kind of excuse, tell him I couldn't make it?” he tried again.

Barty stopped in his tracks, turning to face his lover. “Make up an excuse to the Dark Lord? Listen to yourself, love! This is a huge honour you've been given! Our Lord has _personally_ asked for you, don't you realize?”

“But... but... I heard rumours he... he kills people some times...”

Barty rolled his eyes. “Only Mudbloods and traitors, Reggie. You'll be fine. Our Lord just wants to meet the Black Heir...” He started walking again, forcing Reggie to follow or be left behind.

“I... I...” Reggie spluttered, lost for words as they came up to a dark, foreboding manor.

“Man up, would you? Merlin's wand, sometimes I wonder...” Barty muttered. They came up to the door and he rapped it twice.

The door opened and they were faced by a man in a dark cloak, wearing a silver mask, who had his wand aimed at them as he asked, “Password?”

“Pure of blood, pure of soul,” Barty said, then he revealed his left arm. Regulus involuntarily took a step back when he saw a dark tattoo there that he was sure Barty hadn't had just a few days prior.

“That one with you?” the masked man asked, indicating Regulus.

“The Dark Lord asked for him,” Barty affirmed. “Come, Reggie. No need to be so hesitant, I'm with you.”

Shadows seemed to grow darker as Regulus followed Barty inside, until they entered a large room where _he_ sat.

“Barty, my trusty servant, come closer,” _he_ said. “And do bring your guest...”

“Master,” Barty said, dropping to his knees. Regulus wavered for a moment, but at a cough from Barty... his friend... his more-than-friend... he followed, prostrating himself before the self-styled Dark Lord.

“You did well, Barty... I long wanted to meet the Black Heir. Rise, young Regulus... rise and come closer.” Voldemort's sibilant voice caused shivers to run down Regulus' spine, and not the good kind he got when he and Barty spent the night together. No, this was the stuff of nightmares.

Unable to resist the absolute power before him though, he got to his feet, and slowly shuffled forward. “You... you called for me?” A cough from behind him quickly caused him to add, “My Lord?”

Voldemort seemed pleased as he inspected Regulus. “So I did... and you came. Tell me then, young Master Black... do you believe in the Purity of Blood?”

Regulus swallowed, then dared to look up. “Yes... yes, my lord. We... we pure-bloods are superior.”

“Good, very good,” Voldemort said, smiling. His smile didn't quite reach his eyes though, Regulus noticed.  
“I offer you a position in my Death Eaters, Regulus Black. Will you join me, will you help me create a Britain where the pure rule?”

“I...” Regulus hesitated, then looked over his shoulder. His eyes met Barty's, and he saw Barty mouth 'do it'. He looked back at the red eyes of the Dark Lord, and swallowed again. “I... I accept... my Lord.”

“Of course you do,” Voldemort sounded pleased. “Hold out your arm then, Regulus. Hold out your arm and accept your place at my side.”  
As the Dark Lord's wand started to burn his flesh, Regulus started screaming.

–--------

Regulus threw up a little of the Potion, but he would not, could not, stop drinking it. Kreacher was sobbing as he offered up the next sip.

–-------

Regulus groaned as he felt his arm begin to tingle... the Dark Lord was calling for him. Slowly he extracted himself from his lover's arms, making sure not to wake Barty as he slept on.

He was just pulling on his trousers when Barty's voice sounded, “Is it a call?”

“Yes, love... I... I should go,” Regulus said.

“Go then,” Barty said, followed by a yawn. “I'll keep the bed warm for you.”

“Love you,” Regulus said, then he apparated to his Master.

Arriving at the manor he was quickly lead before Him... and he realised that, asides from his ever-present cousin Bellatrix, they were alone.

“Regulus... I am pleased you came so... quickly,” Voldemort said. Was it Regulus' imagination, or did he see some twisted amusement in his eyes? Suddenly fear shot through him, did the Dark Lord know about him and Barty... and did he disapprove?

“My... my lord? I came as soon, as soon as I could...” Regulus stammered.

“So you did. Regulus... you have a personal House-Elf, do you not?”

“Master? I... yes, I do, but –”

“I have need of an Elf. Call him, Regulus.”

Swallowing, not wishing to anger his Master, Regulus called out: “Kreacher!”

Kreacher popped in, staring at the sight of Voldemort, even forgetting to greet his master. Regulus knew what he needed to do, though.

“Kreacher... my Lord asked for you. You are to do whatever he says until he releases your service, understand?”

“Kreacher obeys,” the Elf said, bowing to Regulus. “Kreacher is afraid, but he obeys,” he heard the Elf whisper, as his trusty servant stepped closer to the Dark Lord.

–-----

“Kreacher... I... I'm so sorry for, for making you go to Him,” Regulus cried out.

“Kreacher forgives Master! Please, Master Regulus, stop. No more drinks,” Kreacher said, crying as well.

“I... I must,” Regulus said. “Just keep feeding me until it's gone.”

–-------

“He has gone too far!” Regulus ranted. “Kreacher was nearly dead when he returned!”

“Love, calm down. It's just an Elf,” Barty said.

“Just an Elf? Just a bloody Elf? Kreacher is a friend!” Regulus turned on Barty, staring at him in disbelief. “He nearly killed him!”

“Calm down, will you? This is the Dark Lord you're talking about! What is one little Elf's live worth, compared to Him?” Barty walked towards Regulus, his arms slightly extended to take his shoulders.

Regulus shrugged him off. “Kreacher is my friend! I can't believe you think it was okay for him to almost kill my friend!”

“Careful, Regulus. It almost sounds as if you value your servant over your lord,” Barty's voice seemed to be lower as he spoke slowly, carefully.

“Get out.”

“Reg? What do you mean?”

“Get out, out, out! I... I can't talk to you now,” Regulus repeated.

“Are you choosing a bloody Elf over me?” Barty seemed to be oscillating between amusement and anger. “Are you kidding me?”

“Get out before I hex you,” Regulus said, reaching for his wand.

“Fool,” Barty simply said. “Weak-willed fool. I'll go then... and don't think I'm coming back. Rastaban is a better shag anyway.”

Regulus was stunned for a second. “What... what did you say?”

“Ta, love,” Barty mockingly said, apparating away.

–------

“Master... the locket, it's done,” Kreacher said. Regulus hardly noticed the words at first, he was unable to see... memories clouding his vision.  
“Master... what must Kreacher do?” the Elf begged.

“Locket... swap the lockets,” Regulus breathed out. He reached in his inner pocket and dropped the fake locket, holding his mocking note, on the ground.  
“Kreacher... place the locket in the bowl... then take the real one to Grimmauld Place. Hide it in the Heirloom Cabinet,” he commanded.

“After Kreacher takes Master home,” the Elf said, moving closer to him.

“No! I must stay,” Regulus yelled, ignoring that even his yelling was hardly audible as he laid on the ground. “Kreacher... go, that's an order.”

“But... Master...”

“I order you to leave,” Regulus repeated. He was so thirsty... the water was so close... but he had to be strong, for Kreacher's sake.

“Kreacher returns as soon as Kreacher can,” the Elf promised, then popped away.

Regulus couldn't wait any longer. He crawled to the water edge, then took a sip.  
' _Barty... Sirius... I am sorry for everything_ ,' were his last thoughts before dead hands pulled him under.

Fin.


End file.
